We Give a Squid a Wedgie (15 page)

“Wow,” said Oliver. “These are nice pants.”

Corey showed the twins how to use the pants to escape, and soon they were all free, standing up in the little cabin. Dr. Navel was still out cold.

“So what do we do now?” said Oliver. “How are we going to retake our ship?”

They all thought for a little while, as the boat splashed through the waves.

“Don’t you know martial arts from
Agent Zero
?” asked Oliver.

“It’s all choreographed on TV,” said Corey. “Like a dance.”

“And real pirates don’t dance,” Oliver thought.

“We could pretend to have stomachaches,” Celia suggested.

“And then what?” Corey asked.

“I dunno,” said Celia. “On TV, prisoners always pretend to have stomachaches so they can escape.”

They thought some more.

“Bwak,” said Dennis quietly. “Bwak-bwak-bwak.”

“I’ve got it!” said Celia. “We can beat them at their own game.”

“We can?” asked Oliver.

“You wanted to be a pirate?” Celia looked at her brother. “Well, now’s your chance. We’re taking a hostage on the high seas!”

“We are?” asked Oliver.

“Bwak!” said Dennis.

All eyes turned to the pudgy, flightless bird. “Bwak-bwak,” it said again and then cocked its head from side to side.

Sometimes even a chicken knows when it’s in trouble.

BIG BART RESTED HIS FEET
on the transom of the boat and was steering with one hand. Bonnie adjusted the winches to tighten the sails, getting a few extra knots of speed. Twitchy Bart was nowhere to be seen, which meant he was probably up the mast again. It turned out that the pirates were actually very good sailors, better than Corey and the Navels had been.

“How do we do this?” Celia whispered, peering out the crack of the door to their bunk.

“We need to make demands,” said Corey.

“Why do I have to hold the chicken?” said Oliver,­ who was struggling to keep Dennis quiet under his arm. He didn’t think it was fair that he
always got stuck with the animals on their adventures, but Celia said he had the most talent for it and Corey needed to keep his hands free in case the pirates tried anything sneaky.

Oliver had thought about tying up the chicken just like they had been tied up, but it was way too hard to do. The octopus and the tiger shark were easier to wrangle than the chicken.

“Bwa … bwa … bwak,” the chicken squawked.

“Hush,” Oliver commanded it, and, much to his surprise, the chicken hushed.

“So what’ll you tell the others when we get back to the Princess?” Bonnie asked Big Bart.

“Tell the others about what, Bonnie?” he ­answered.

“About our extra hostages, the Navels.”

“I’ll tell them there’s a billionaire who might pay ransom for ’em,” said Big Bart.

“You believe that?” Bonnie asked. “Some snot-nosed kids say they know an evil billionaire, and you believe it? I think they were just mouthing off to save their own skin.”

“You’re not the motherly type, are you, Bonnie?”­

She snorted.

“Well,” said Big Bart, “I theorize that this young lad and that young lass have a mother. Perhaps she’ll be interested in paying their ransom.”

Oliver and Celia glanced at each other at the mention of their mother.

Usually, when things got dangerous, their mother had a way of showing up to help out, or to explain things, or to save the day, like the whole adventure was her idea all along.

But this was the open ocean and these were ­vicious pirates. Who knew where their mother even was? Oliver wondered if they’d find her disguised as a pirate, ready to rescue them the moment they showed up.

“We’re on our own,” Celia whispered, as if she could read his mind.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” ­Oliver wondered.

“I’m your sister. I just know,” said Celia.

“You guys ready?” Corey asked. He looked over at Oliver and Celia, gave them his famous wink and smile, kicked the door to their bunk wide open, and strode out onto the deck of the boat. “Nobody move!” he shouted. “Or the chicken gets it!”

“Bwak!” squawked Dennis, squeezed snugly in Oliver’s grip.

“Go ahead!” Oliver said, lifting the frantic chicken in the air. “Make my day!”

He’d always wanted to say that.

Dennis’s little clawed feet ran in the air, as if he might just fly away if only he could get a running start.

“Don’t you hurt Dennis,” yelled Big Bart. “Or I’ll cut you from your gizzard to your gullet.”

The threat would have been terrifying if any of them had the slightest idea what it meant.

“We’ll give you your chicken back,” said Corey. “If you surrender control of this vessel back to us, like, now.”

“Look around, kid.” Big Bart laughed. “We’re on the ocean. There’s no one here to help you. Give up and no one will get hurt.”

“Your friends want to throw my friends overboard,” Corey said. “I can’t let that happen.”

“Bwak,” said Dennis.

“Okay, kids, you got the jump on Big Bart, that’s true.” Big Bart sighed. He looked at Oliver. “If you still want to join us, you can. Just bring Dennis
over to me. Back on our ship, we’ve got satellite television and all the movies and TV shows you could ever watch. We even have the
Agent Zero
Christmas special.”

“Hey!” Corey objected. “That was never supposed to be released!”

“What can I say?” Big Bart shrugged. “We downloaded it illegally.”

“But that’s piracy!” Corey yelled.

The pirates laughed at him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Celia saw Twitchy Bart high up on the mast, unsheathing his big knife again. Bonnie was shifting her weight to her back foot, like she was about to pounce on them. Celia glanced at her brother. A trickle of sweat was running down Oliver’s cheek as he struggled to keep the chicken still. He was whispering for it to calm down. Oliver could never hurt a chicken, not one with a name anyway. Big Bart had probably guessed that already.

“There must be a way we can join you,” said Celia. “Like on
Valerie-at-Large
.”

“What?” Big Bart wondered.

“What?” Corey wondered.

“What?” the other pirates wondered.

“I hate that show,” said Oliver.

Celia sighed and, for the second time that day, talked through the whole episode about Valerie’s story for the school paper and the Six Sisters Club, and spending the night in a graveyard and stealing a towel from the boys’ locker room and the initiation.

“You want to steal a towel from the boys’ locker room?” Bonnie asked.

“No.” Celia rolled her eyes. “We want to do what it takes to become real pirates.”

“Interesting.” Big Bart drummed his fingers on the wheel of the boat.

“Big Bart,” said Bonnie. “You can’t go making decisions on your own. We’ve got a say in whatever you’re thinking.”

“I think you’re getting a bit too bossy for your own good,” said Big Bart, standing to his full, gigantic height. Celia took a step backward.

“I think your days as captain might be numbered,” said Bonnie, stepping toward Big Bart and glaring up into his eyes.

“Do you?” said Big Bart.

“I do,” said Bonnie. “I think, perhaps, we should settle this the old-fashioned way.”

“You challenging me to a fight, Bonnie?”

“I think I am, Big Bart.”

Celia, Corey, and Oliver all took nervous steps backward. Oliver stumbled a moment to get his footing on the wet deck, and suddenly Dennis broke free in a riot of squawking and feathers. His little wings flapped in the air, but in spite of his best efforts he made it no more than a foot before landing on the deck and running to peck at Bonnie’s feet.

“Ow, you dumb chicken!” she yelled, kicking at the bird.

“He’s technically a rooster!” Big Bart roared, and while Bonnie was distracted, he grabbed her in one quick motion around the waist and tossed her overboard.

“Ahh!” she yelled as she splashed into the sea.

“We’re about four miles due south of land!” Big Bart called back as the
Get It Over With
sailed on. He tossed a flotation ring into the ocean toward her and laughed loudly as he shouted, “Good luck with your new boat, Bonnie! Watch out for sharks!”

Bonnie was still shouting when her voice faded on the wind behind them.

Big Bart turned to face a shocked Oliver, Celia, and Corey Brandt.

“You … you threw her … you … ,” Corey stammered.

“Pirate justice,” said Big Bart. “She challenged me and she lost.”

“Bwak,” said Dennis, strutting around the deck.

“Stupid chicken,” Oliver muttered, trying to catch the chicken again. Big Bart glared at him. “Rooster … I mean rooster,” Oliver corrected himself.

Big Bart smirked. Dennis ran to safety behind his leg and Oliver didn’t go after him.

“Twitch!” he called. “Come over here and tie up our star of stage and screen.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n,” said Twitchy Bart, putting the knife between his teeth to tie Corey up.

“You’ll never get away with this,” said Corey as Twitchy Bart led him below. “I have people in ­Hollywood. Powerful people! They’ve canceled television shows tougher than you are!”

Twitchy Bart didn’t reply. He just pulled his knife out of his teeth and put it against Corey’s cheek. Corey swallowed hard as he disappeared into the cabin.

“As for you two,” Big Bart told the twins. They
stepped closer to each other. “If you still want your initiation, we’ll get right to that as soon as we’re back to my ship.”

“Do we have a choice?” Oliver gulped.

Big Bart smiled widely. “Of course, my lad!” He laughed. “You always have a choice. We’re pirates, not schoolteachers.”

Oliver and Celia looked at each other, relieved.

“You can both join Bonnie’s crew at the bottom of the sea,” said Big Bart. “Or one of you can join my crew.”

“Just one of us?” It was Celia’s turn to gulp.

“Oh yes, young lady,” said Big Bart. “Once we get to my ship, we’ll do just like on your television show and have our initiation.”

“Are we going to steal towels from the boys’ locker room?” Oliver suggested.

“Oh no.” Big Bart chuckled, sitting back down in the captain’s chair. Oliver and Celia took another step away from him.

“We’re going to have a duel,” he said. “Brother versus sister! The winner joins the great and honorable tradition of Blackbeard and Captain Kidd, raiding the high seas for fun and profit, lounging
the days away in comfort and luxury, and watching as much television as he or she likes.”

“And the loser?” squeaked Oliver.

Big Bart didn’t answer; he just smiled his toothy grin and fed one of their snack cakes to Dennis, who clucked happily, devouring his plunder.

TWITCHY BART TIED COREY UP
and threw him in with Dr. Navel, who was just waking up. He put Oliver and Celia in another bunk.

“Don’t try anything fishy,” he warned, and waved his big knife in the air to make sure they understood what he meant. Then he locked them in.

The boat rocked and rolled as it cut through the waves. Oliver’s complexion started to turn the color of an unripe banana.

“Don’t puke in here,” said Celia.

“I won’t,” said Oliver. He looked over at her and grunted.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing,” said Oliver. He was still upset she had called him a baby when he was trying to save them.

“Fine,” said Celia. She was still annoyed that he’d told Corey she was trying to impress him. “We have to think of a new plan, or they’ll turn you, me, and Dad into shark food, and who knows what they’ll do with Corey.”

“Oh no, poor Corey,” Oliver grumbled.

“You used to like him.”

“That was before he turned you into my evil twin.”

“I’m not your evil twin.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Yes, whatever I say, and I say I’m not your evil twin. You’re just too sensitive.”

“Whatever,” said Oliver, crossing his arms.

They stewed in their own silent anger for a while.

“You’re wrong, by the way.” Oliver broke the silence. “Sharks don’t eat people. That’s a myth.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” said Oliver. “On
Sharkapalooza
they said that even when sharks bite people, they usually­ spit them back out, because we aren’t their natural diet.”